미 모던 포크의 아버지이자 밥 딜런의 정신적 지주로 더욱 유명한 우디 거슬리의 베스트 앨범. 그는 미국의 구전음악을 현대화 시킨 학자이자 뛰어난 작곡가 일뿐만 아니라 당시 기득권의 비판과 반정부 사상을 포크음악의 형식으로 표현하였던 폴리티칼 포크의 전도사로서 알려져 있다. 본 앨범은 그의 생애 중 가장 뛰어났던 '50~'60년도의 대표작들을 수록하고 있으며 포크 애호가들이라면 반드시 놓치지 말아야 될 높은 가치를 선사한다. .... ....
I've been havin' some hard travelin', I thought you knowed I've been havin' some hard travelin', way down the road I've been havin' some hard travelin', hard ramblin', hard gamblin' I've been havin' some hard travelin', lord
I've been ridin' them fast rattlers, I thought you knowed I've been ridin' them flat wheelers, way down the road I've been ridin' them blind passengers, dead-enders, kickin' up cinders I've been havin' some hard travelin', lord
I've been hittin' some hard-rock minin', I thought you knowed I've been leanin' on a pressure drill, way down the road Hammer flyin', air-hole suckin', six foot of mud and I shore been a muckin' And I've been hittin' some hard travelin', lord
I've been hittin' some hard harvestin', I thought you knowed North Dakota to Kansas City, way down the road Cuttin' that wheat, stackin' that hay, and I'm tryin' make about a dollar a day And I've been havin' some hard travelin', lord
I've been working that Pittsburgh steel, I thought you knowed I've been a dumpin' that red-hot slag, way down the road I've been a blasting, I've been a firin', I've been a pourin' red-hot iron I've been hittin' some hard travelin', lord
I've been layin' in a hard-rock jail, I thought you knowed I've been a laying out 90 days, way down the road Damned old judge, he said to me, "It's 90 days for vagrancy." And I've been hittin' some hard travelin', lord
I've been walking that Lincoln highway, I thought you knowed, I've been hittin' that 66, way down the road Heavy load and a worried mind, lookin' for a woman that's hard to find, I've been hittin' some hard travelin', lord
I got that dust pneumony, pneumony in my lung, I got the dust pneumony, pneumony in my lung, An' I'm a-gonna sing this dust pneumony song.
I went to the doctor, and the doctor, said, "My son," I went to the doctor, and the doctor, said, "My son, You got that dust pneumony an' you ain't got long, not long."
Now there ought to be some yodelin' in this song; Yeah, there ought to be some yodelin' in this song; But I can't yodel for the rattlin' in my lung.
My good gal sings the dust pneumony blues, My good gal sings the dust pneumony blues, She loves me 'cause she's got the dust pneumony, too.
It it wasn't for choppin' my hoe would turn to rust, If it wasn't for choppin' my hoe would turn to rust, I can't find a woman in this black ol' Texas dust.
Down in Oklahoma, the wind blows mighty strong, Down in Oklahoma, the wind blows mighty strong, If you want to get a mama, just sing a California song.
Down in Texas, my gal fainted in the rain, Down in Texas, my gal fainted in the rain, I throwed a bucket o' dirt in her face just to bring her back again.
It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road Out of your Dust Bowl and Westward we rolled And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold
I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes I slept on the ground in the light of the moon On the edge of the city you'll see us and then We come with the dust and we go with the wind
California, Arizona, I harvest your crops Well its North up to Oregon to gather your hops Dig the beets from your ground, cut the grapes from your vine To set on your table your light sparkling wine
Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down Every state in the Union us migrants have been We'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win
It's always we rambled, that river and I All along your green valley, I will work till I die My land I'll defend with my life if it be Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free
Have you seen that vigilante man? Have you seen that vigilante man? Have you seen that vigilante man? I been hearin' his name all over the land.
Well, what is a vigilante man? Tell me, what is a vigilante man? Has he got a gun and a club in his hand? Is that is a vigilante man?
Rainy night down in the engine house, Sleepin' just as still as a mouse, Man come along an' he chased us out in the rain. Was that a vigilante man?
Stormy days we passed the time away, Sleepin' in some good warm place. Man come along an' we give him a little race. Was that a vigilante man?
Preacher Casey was just a workin' man, And he said, "Unite all you working men." Killed him in the river some strange man. Was that a vigilante man?
Oh, why does a vigilante man, Why does a vigilante man Carry that sawed-off shot-gun in his hand? Would he shoot his brother and sister down?
I rambled 'round from town to town, I rambled 'round from town to town, And they herded us around like a wild herd of cattle. Was that the vigilante men?
Have you seen that vigilante man? Have you seen that vigilante man? I've heard his name all over this land.
Well, the world has seven wonders that the trav'lers always tell, Some gardens and some towers, I guess you know them well, But now the greatest wonder is in Uncle Sam's fair lang, It's the big Columbia River and the big Grand Coulee Dam.
She heads up the Canadian Rockies where the rippling waters glide, Comes a-roaring down the canyon to meet the salty tide, Of the wide Pacific Ocean where the sun sets in the West And the big Grand Coulee country in the land I love the best.
In the misty crystal glitter of that wild and wind ward spray, Men have fought the pounding waters and met a watery grave, Well, she tore their boats to splinters but she gave men dreams to dream Of the day the Coulee Dam would cross that wild and wasted stream.
Uncle Sam took up the challenge in the year of 'thrity-three, For the farmer and the factory and all of you and me, He said, "Roll along, Columbia, you can ramble to the sea, But river, while you're rambling, you can do some work for me."
Now in Washington and Oregon you can hear the factories hum, Making chrome and making manganese and light aluminum, And there roars the flying fortress now to fight for Uncle Sam, Spawned upon the King Columbia by the big Grand Coulee Dam.
Come all of you cowboys all over this land, I'll teach you the law of the Ranger's Command: To hold a six shooter, and never to run As long as there's bullets in both of your guns.
I met a fair maiden whose name I don't know; I asked her to the roundup with me would she go; She said she'd go with me to the cold roundup, And drink that hard liquor from the cold, bitter cup.
We started for the canyon in the fall of the year Expecting to get there with a herd of fat steer; And the rustlers broke on us in the dead hours of night; She 'rose from her warm bed, a battle to fight.
She 'rose from her warm bed with a gun in each hand, Said: Come all of you cowboys and fight for your land, Come all of you cowboys and don't ever run As long as there's bullets in both of your guns.
Lots of folks back East, they say, is leavin' home every day, Beatin' the hot old dusty way to the California line. 'Cross the desert sands they roll, gettin' out of that old dust bowl, They think they're goin' to a sugar bowl, but here's what they find Now, the police at the port of entry say, "You're number fourteen thousand for today."
Oh, if you ain't got the do re mi, folks, you ain't got the do re mi, Why, you better go back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee. California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see; But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot If you ain't got the do re mi.
You want to buy you a home or a farm, that can't deal nobody harm, Or take your vacation by the mountains or sea. Don't swap your old cow for a car, you better stay right where you are, Better take this little tip from me. 'Cause I look through the want ads every day But the headlines on the papers always say:
If you ain't got the do re mi, boys, you ain't got the do re mi, Why, you better go back to beautiful Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee. California is a garden of Eden, a paradise to live in or see; But believe it or not, you won't find it so hot If you ain't got the do re mi.
It was early springtime that the strike was on They moved us miners out of doors Out from the houses that the company owned We moved into tents at old Ludlow
I was worried bad about my children Soldiers guarding the railroad bridge Every once in a while a bullet would fly Kick up gravel under my feet
We were so afraid they would kill our children We dug us a cave that was seven foot deep Carried our young ones and a pregnant woman Down inside the cave to sleep
That very night you soldier waited Until us miners were asleep You snuck around our little tent town Soaked our tents with your kerosene
You struck a match and the blaze it started You pulled the triggers of your gatling guns I made a run for the children but the fire wall stopped me Thirteen children died from your guns
I carried my blanket to a wire fence corner Watched the fire till the blaze died down I helped some people grab their belongings While your bullets killed us all around
I will never forget the looks on the faces Of the men and women that awful day When we stood around to preach their funerals And lay the corpses of the dead away
We told the Colorado governor to call the President Tell him to call off his National Guard But the National Guard belong to the governor So he didn't try so very hard
Our women from Trinidad they hauled some potatoes Up to Walsenburg in a little cart They sold their potatoes and brought some guns back And put a gun in every hand
The state soldiers jumped us in a wire fence corner They did not know that we had these guns And the red neck miners mowed down them troopers You should have seen those poor boys run
We took some cement and walled that cave up Where you killed those thirteen children inside I said, "God bless the Mine Workers' Union" And then I hung my head and cried
This land is your land and this land is my land From California to the New York island From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me
As I went walking that ribbon of highway I saw above me that endless skyway Saw below me that golden valley This land was made for you and me
I roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts All around me a voice was sounding This land was made for you and me
When the sun come shining, then I was strolling And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling The voice was chanting as the fog was lifting This land was made for you and me
This land is your land and this land is my land From California to the New York island From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me
When the sun come shining, then I was strolling And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling The voice come a-chanting and the fog was lifting This land was made for you and me
Take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me Everybody take a whiff on me Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me (X2)
I got a woman 6ft4 sleepin in the kitchen with her feet in the door Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me Sure maid, fishin in the creek, ain't caught a man since a way last week Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me
Take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me Everybody take a whiff on me Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me (X2)
Wanna get a woman let me tell you a word, grease your hair down slick n smart Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me I'm walkin' down the road with my hat in my hand lookin' for a woman who wants to meet a man, Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me
Take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me Everybody take a whiff on me Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me (X2)
Walkin down the road and the road's mighty muddy, sliipin n sliding n I can't stay steady Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me I know my woman ain't treatin me right she don't get home till the day gets light, Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me
Take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me Everybody take a whiff on me Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me (X2)
Meet a lot of woman rambling around but the Boston women are the best I've found Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me Singing songs all night long, sing to my woman from midnight on, Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me
Take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me Everybody take a whiff on me Hey, hey, baby take a whiff on me (X2)
I ain't got no home, I'm just a-roamin' 'round, Just a wandrin' worker, I go from town to town. And the police make it hard wherever I may go And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.
My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road, A hot and dusty road that a million feet have trod; Rich man took my home and drove me from my door And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.
Was a-farmin' on the shares, and always I was poor; My crops I lay into the banker's store. My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor, And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.
I mined in your mines and I gathered in your corn I been working, mister, since the day I was born Now I worry all the time like I never did before 'Cause I ain't got no home in this world anymore
Now as I look around, it's mighty plain to see This world is such a great and a funny place to be; Oh, the gamblin' man is rich an' the workin' man is poor, And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.
It was late last night when the boss came home askin' for his lady The only answer that he got, " She's gone with the Gypsy Davey, She's gone with the Gypsy Dave."
Go saddle for me a buckskin horse And a hundred dollar saddle. Point out to me their wagon tracks And after them I'll travel, After them I'll ride.
Well I had not rode to the midnight moon, When I saw the campfire gleaming. I heard the notes of the big guitar And the voice of the gypsies singing That song of the Gypsy Dave.
There in the light of the camping fire, I saw her fair face beaming. Her heart in tune with the big guitar And the voice of the gypsies singing That song of the Gypsy Dave.
Have you forsaken your house and home? Have you forsaken your baby? Have you forsaken your husband dear To go with the Gypsy Davy? And sing with the Gypsy Davy? The song of the Gypsy Dave?
Yes I've forsaken my husband dear To go with the Gypsy Davy, And I've forsaken my mansion high But not my blue-eyed baby, Not my blue-eyed baby.
She smiled to leave her husband dear And go with the Gypsy Davy; But the tears come a-trickling down her cheeks To think of the blue-eyed baby, Pretty little blue-eyed baby.
Take off, take off your buckskin gloves Made of Spanish leather; Give to me your lily-white hair And we'll ride home together We'll ride home again.
No, I won't take off my buckskin gloves, They're made of Spanish leather. I'll go my way from day to day And sing with the Gypsy Davy That song of the Gypsy Davy, That song of the Gypsy Davy, That song of the Gypsy Dave.
Did you ever see a hangman tie a hangknot? Did you ever see a hangman tie a hangknot? I've seen it many a time and he winds, he winds, After thirteen times he's got a hangknot.
Tell me will that hangknot slip, no it will not, Will that hangknot slip, no it will not. Slip around your neck, but it won't slip back again Hangknot, hangknot, that hangknot.
Did you ever lose your father on a hangknot? Did you ever lose your father on a hangknot? They hung him from a pole, and they shot him full of holes, Left him there to rot on that hangknot.
Tell me who makes the laws for that hangknot? Who makes the laws for that hangknot? Who says who will go to the calaboose? Get the hangman's noose on a hangknot.
I don't know who makes the law for that hangknot. I don't know who makes the law for that hangknot. But the bones of many a men are whistling in the wind, Just because they tied their laws with a hangknot.
I just blowed in, and I got them dust bowl blues, I just blowed in, and I got them dust bowl blues, I just blowed in, and I'll blow back out again.
I guess you've heard about ev'ry kind of blues, I guess you've heard about ev'ry kind of blues, But when the dust gets high, you can't even see the sky.
I've seen the dust so black that I couldn't see a thing, I've seen the dust so black that I couldn't see a thing, And the wind so cold, boy, it nearly cut your water off.
I seen the wind so high that it blowed my fences down, I've seen the wind so high that it blowed my fences down, Buried my tractor six feet underground.
Well, it turned my farm into a pile of sand, Yes, it turned my farm into a pile of sand, I had to hit that road with a bottle in my hand.
I spent ten years down in that old dust bowl, I spent ten years down in that old dust bowl, When you get that dust pneumony, boy, it's time to go.
I had a gal, and she was young and sweet, I had a gal, and she was young and sweet, But a dust storm buried her sixteen hundred feet.
She was a good gal, long, tall and stout, Yes, she was a good gal, long, tall and stout, I had to get a steam shovel just to dig my darlin' out.
These dusty blues are the dustiest ones I know, These dusty blues are the dustiest ones I know, Buried head over heels in the black old dust, I had to pack up and go. An' I just blowed in, an' I'll soon blow out again.
I'll sing you a true song of Billy the Kid I'll sing of the desperate deeds that he did Way out in New Mexico, long long ago When a man's only chance was his own 44 When Billy, the kid was a very young lad In the old Silver City, he went to the bad Way out in the West with a gun in his hand At the age of twelve years, he first killed his man
Fair Mexican maidens play guitars and sing A song about Billy, the boy bandit king How ere his young manhood had reached its sad end He'd a notch on his pistol for twenty-one men
'Twas on the same night when poor Billy died He said to his friends, "I am not satisfied There are twenty-one men I have put bullets through And sheriff Pat Garrett must make twenty-two"
Now this is how Billy, the kid met his fate The bright moon was shining, the hour was late Shot down by Pat Garrett who once was his friend The young outlaw's life had now come to its end
There's many a man with a face fine and fair Who starts out in life with a chance to be square But just like poor Billy, he wanders astray And loses his life in the very same way
I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! bottle in my hand, bottle in my hand I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! And we danced in the light of the moon!
I danced with a gal with a hole in her stockin! and her heel kept a-knockin and her toes kept a-rockin I danced with a gal with a hole in her stockin And we danced by the light of the moon!
I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! bottle in my hand, bottle in my hand I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! And we danced in the light of the moon!
I got a gal that lives on the hill! Lives on the hill, lives on the hill! Ive got a gal that lives on the hill! Tell me wont ya come out tonight?!
The bootlegger's daughter and i love her still! lover her still, lover her still! The bootlegger's daughter and i love her still! Tell me wont ya come out tonight!?
I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! bottle in my hand, bottle in my hand I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! And we danced in the light of the moon!
Hurry up go 'n don't go slow! Here you go 'n dont go slow! There you go kickin up snow! Hurry up go and on you go!
I went up and she went down! swing that gal round round! right wing up! left wing down! you just go a-kickin at the floor!
I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! bottle in my hand, bottle in my hand I danced all night with a bottle in my hand! And we danced in the light of the moon!
I was standing down New York town one day I was standing down in New York town one day I was standing down in that New York town one day Just singing "Hey hey hey hey"
I was broke and I didn't have a dime I was broke and I didn't have a lousy dime I was broke and I didn't have a dime Every good man gets a little hard luck some time
Every good man gets a little hard luck some time Every good man gets a little hard luck some time Every good man gets a little hard luck some time When he's down and out and ain't got a lousy dime
What you do woman, that sure don't worry me What you do woman, Lord, that sure don't worry me What you do woman, that sure don't worry me I got more women than the Civil War set free
And I can get more women than a passenger train can haul I can get more women than a passenger train can haul I can get more women than a passenger train can haul Just singing "Hey hey hey hey"
I'm gonna ride that new morning railroad I'm gonna ride that new morning train I'm gonna ride that new morning train And I ain't a-comin' back to this man's town again
I ain't a-comin' back to this man's town again No I ain't-a comin' back to this man's town again I ain't comin' back to this man's town again Just singing "Hey, hey hey hey"
Who's gonna shoe your pretty little feet? Who's gonna glove your hand? Who's gonna kiss your red, ruby lips? Who's gonna be your man? Papa's gonna shoe my pretty little feet Mama's gonna glove my hand Sister's gonna kiss my red, ruby lips I don't need no man
I don't need no man I don't need no man Sister's gonna kiss my red, ruby lips I don't need no man
Fastest train I ever did ride Was a hundred coaches long And the only woman I ever did love Was on that train and gone
On that train and gone, boys On that train and gone The only woman I ever did love Was on that train and gone
Who's gonna shoe your pretty little feet? Who's gonna glove your hand? Who's gonna kiss your red, ruby lips? Who's gonna be your man?
Papa's gonna shoe my pretty little feet Mama's gonna glove my hand Sister's gonna kiss my red, ruby lips I don't need no man
I don't need no man I don't need no man Sister's gonna kiss my red, ruby lips I don't need no man
Well, down along the river just a-sittin' on a rock I'm a-lookin' at the boats in the Bonneville lock. Gate swings open, the boat sails in, Toot that whistle, she's gone again. Gasoline goin' up. Wheat comin' down. Well, I filled up my hat brim, drunk a little taste, Thought about a river just a-goin' to waste; Thought about the dust, an' thought about the sand, Thought about the people, an' thought about the land. Folks runnin' round all over creation, Lookin' for some kind of little place.
Well, I pulled out my pencil, scribbled this song, Figured all them salmon just couldn't be wrong; Them salmon fish is mighty shrewd, They got senators and politicians, too. Just about like the president. They run every four years.
You just watch this river, though, pretty soon Everybody's gonna be changin' their tune; The big Grand Coulee and the Bonneville dams Run a thousand factories for Uncle Sam. And everybody else in the world. Turnin' out Everything from fertilizers to sewing machines, And atomic bedrooms and plastic -- Everything's gonna be plastic.
Uncle Sam need houses and stuff to eat, Uncle Sam needs wool, and Uncle Sam needs wheat, Uncle Sam needs water and power dams, Uncle Sam needs people, and the people need land. 'Course I don't like dictators none myself, but then I think the whole country had ought to be run by e-lec-trici-ty.
Come all you old time cowboys, And listen to my song, Please do not grow weary, I'll not detain you long. Concerning some wild cowboys, Who did agree to go, Spend the summer pleasant, On the trail of the Buffalo. I found myself in Griffin, In the spring of '83, When a well known famous drover, Came walking up to me. Said, "How do you do, young fellow, Well how would you like to go, And spend the summer pleasant, On the trail of the Buffalo?" Well I being out of work right then, To the drover I did say, "Going out on the Buffalo Road, Depends on the pay. If you will pay good wages, And transportation to and fro, I think I might go with you, On the hunt of the Buffalo." "Of course I'll pay good wages, And transportation too, If you will agree to work for me, Until the season's through." But if you do get homesick, And try to run away, You will starve to death, Out on the trail and also lose your pay." Well with all his flattering talking, He signed up quite a train, Some 10 or 12 in number, Some able bodied men. The trip it was a pleasant one, As we hit the westward road, Until we crossed old Boggy Creek, In old New Mexico. There our pleasures ended, And our troubles began. A lightening storm hit us, And made the cattle run. Got all full of stickers, From the cactus that did not grow, And the outlaws watching, To pick us off in the hills of Mexico. Well our working season ended, And the drover would not pay, If you had not drunk too much, You are all in debt to me. But the cowboys never had heard, Such a thing as a bankrupt law, So we left that drover's bones to bleach, On the Plains of the Buffalo.
Jesus Christ was a man who traveled through the land Hard working man and brave He said to the rich, "Give your goods to the poor." So they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.
Jesus was a man, a carpenter by hand His followers true and brave One dirty little coward called Judas Iscariot Has laid Jesus Christ in his grave
He went to the sick, he went to the poor, And he went to the hungry and the lame; Said that the poor would one day win this world, And so they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.
He went to the preacher, he went to the sheriff, Told them all the same; Sell all of your jewelry and give it to the Poor, But they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.
When Jesus came to town, the working folks around, Believed what he did say; The bankers and the preachers they nailed him on a cross, And they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.
Poor working people, they follered him around, Sung and shouted gay; Cops and the soldiers, they nailed him in the air, And they nailed Jesus Christ in his grave.
Well the people held their breath when they heard about his death, And everybody wondered why; It was the landlord and the soldiers that he hired. That nailed Jesus Christ in the sky.
When the love of the poor shall one day turn to hate. When the patience of the workers gives away "Would be better for you rich if you never had been born" So they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.
This song was written in New York City Of rich men, preachers and slaves Yes, if Jesus was to preach like he preached in Galillee, They would lay Jesus Christ in his grave.
I'm blowin' down this old dusty road I'm a-blowin' down this old dusty road I'm a-blowin' down this old dusty road, Lord, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way
I'm a-goin' where the water taste like wine I'm a-goin' where the water taste like wine I'm a-goin' where the water taste like wine, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
I'm a-goin' where the dust storms never blow I'm a-goin' where them dust storms never blow I'm a-goin' where them dust storms never blow, blow, blow An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
They say I'm a dust bowl refugee Yes, they say I'm a dust bowl refugee They say I'm a dust bowl refugee, Lord, Lord But I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
I'm a-lookin' for a job at honest pay I'm a-lookin' for a job at honest pay I'm a-lookin' for a job at honest pay, Lord, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
My children need three square meals a day Now, my children need three square meals a day My children need three square meals a day, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
It takes a ten-dollar shoe to fit my feet It takes a ten-dollar shoe to fit my feet It takes a ten-dollar shoe to fit my feet, Lord, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
Your a-two-dollar shoe hurts my feet Your two-dollar shoe hurts my feet Yes, your two-dollar shoe hurts my feet, Lord, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
I'm a-goin' down this old dusty road I'm blowin' down this old dusty road I'm a-blowin' down this old dusty road, Lord, Lord An' I ain't a-gonna be treated this way
Well, the new sher'ff wrote me a letter, Yes, the new sher'ff wrote me a letter: Come up and see me dead or alive, Come up and see me dead or alive. Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.
Well, he even sent me my picture: Yes, he even sent me my picture; How do I look, boys, dead or alive? How do I look, boys, dead or alive? Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.
Well, he said he would pay expenses: Yes, he said he would pay expenses; Dead or alive, no thank! New sheriff, I'm a poor boy Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.
Well, he said he would feed and clothe me; Yes, mhe said he would feed and clothe me; Dead or alive, no thanks! New sheriff, I'm a poor boy Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.
Well, I'm sorry I can't come, sheriff; Yes, I'm sorry but I can't come, sheriff; Dead or alive, no thanks! New sheriff, I'm a poor boy Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.
I don't like your hard-rock hotel; I don't like your hard-rock hotel; Dead or alive, new sheriff No thanks, I'm a poor boy Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.
I gotta go down and see my little sweet thing; Gonna go down and see my little sweet thing; Dead or alive, yes, Lord! No thanks, new sheriff. Dead or alive it's a hard road; it's a hard road dead or alive.